Perseverance
by Yumi Take
Summary: Murata is plain normal. He does his job, does what he can, and does it well. He wants to live a life he can be proud of, as a man and as a Demon Slayer. If he falls, he gets up and starts working again. If the mission requires him to work in a team with the most annoying person he's ever met, he will. Because Murata just wants to do what he can, and do it well. That's all.


A. N. : Spoilers for the Infinity Train arc of the manga, as this fic mostly takes place shortly after that.

* * *

Murata knows he isn't anything remarkable. He looks plain, his name is plain, his sword skills are decent but nothing that will ever come close to Pillar level. In short, Murata is just a regular guy. And he likes it this way.

Being a normal guy means anything impressive he might do becomes so much more than if he was already gifted. When he held back the manipulated Demon Slayers back in Natagumo, allowing Tanjirou and Inosuke to push forward and find the one pulling the strings, he felt a pride he would've never experienced if he hadn't been plain normal.

And sure, that night might have finished on a rather lower point – he will never be able to look at Kochou ever again – but Murata did his job, did what he could do, and did it well. And he is proud of that.

He visits Tanjirou afterwards, finds Inosuke in a pretty sorry state, meets another one of their friends who he _thinks_ beat one of the main spider demons ? But the guy doesn't strike him as anything close to the level of Tanjirou or Inosuke, and Murata guesses there must always be a normal guy in any group of friends. Not everyone can be exceptional.

He doesn't think much of it until later. Missions come and go, almost overwhelmingly. He gets a few new scars. A crow announces that the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyoujurou, died in a fight against Upper Moon Three.

Murata remembers Rengoku, from that time he had to give a summary of what went down at Natagumo in front of the Pillars. They all terrified him, but Rengoku seemed warm underneath the layer of oppressive and overwhelming strength. It's a shame he died. Murata is sure many people will miss him, not just as a Pillar, but as a person.

He doesn't. Losing a Pillar is terrible, but Murata doesn't know how to feel sadness – real sadness, not just a slight feeling of unease, or sympathy for the family – for the death of someone he doesn't know. So he does what he can, and does it well. He goes on more missions, helps more people, tries to be proud of every day he spends living.

One day he too will die, and he doesn't want to have any regrets then.

In a Wisteria House on the way to his newest mission, he meets Agatsuma again. Apparently, the two of them were sent on the same demon's trail. More help is always welcome, but that probably also means a stronger target. Not too strong, surely they wouldn't have sent the normal one of Tanjirou's group of friends otherwise – surely no one wants a repeat of Natagumo – but more than Murata could handle on his own.

It's fine. Murata is used to working in teams. Being a regular guy means he often has no other choice if he wants to live. He can do this, and he can do it well.

Or he could, if Agatsuma wasn't such an annoying crybaby. Seriously, Murata thought he was just still a little shell-shocked the first time they met, a little jumpy because he had almost died facing spider demons and almost turned into a spider himself, understandably anxious. But no. He's always like that. Crying and whining and so, so certain he will die the next time he sees a demon.

This guy will die a worthless death. He will die, and when he looks back at what he did in his life, he will see nothing he can be proud of. It pisses Murata off.

Still, the mission. Teamwork. Even if Murata has to drag Agatsuma along, even if he has to keep grinding his teeth to stop himself from shouting at Agatsuma every time he complains, he will do his job. And he'll try to do it well, or as well as the circumstances let him.

For a guy so certain he's not going to make it, though, Agatsuma sure walks fast. He complains and whines and cries, but his feet don't stop moving in the direction the crow – crows ? It should be crows. Why does this guy have a sparrow instead ? – indicates. Still annoying, but better than Murata expected.

And then he stops. In the middle of the road. At night. There's a cliff up left, the forest to the right, and a whole bunch of nothing in the way. Murata is about to ask what the hell he's on about, but Agatsuma raises a hand, signs that he's listening to something. What that something is, Murata doesn't know. The wind blows through leaves, some animal or other scutters on the ground. Nothing that warrants a stop.

But Agatsuma stays still, and his eyes go wide right before he tackles Murata and –

A demon comes up from underground. It's like a twisted parody of a mole, erupting from below in a tornado of dust, all claws and teeth and bloodlust and _this close_ to having torn Murata to pieces. Without Agatsuma, he'd be dead.

He draws his sword. Breathes deeply.

The demon went back underground, and Murata has no idea when it will emerge next. But Agatsuma might. Agatsuma heard it the first time, so if he focuses, he might be able to predict where and when the demon will strike. And then Murata will slice its head off.

A team effort. They each do what they can do, and they do it well. Even if Agatsuma is on the verge of crying again. Wait, no, he definitely _is_ crying, he's just doing it silently for once. And he hasn't drawn his sword, even if his hand is on the handle. Murata doubts Agatsuma will be able to keep himself safe, honestly, unless he runs away, but their survival depends on his ears. So Murata will protect him, as much as possible.

It's going to be one long night for sure.

Agatsuma lets out a cry – _left_ – and grabs Murata's collar in time to get him out of the demon's range. Of course that also means Murata just swung his sword on empty air, but on the bright side, his legs haven't been turned into minced meat.

It goes on like this one more time, then again, and again, and Murata thinks they need a new plan. Keeping himself safe isn't possible without sacrificing his ability to slay the demon, and there's no way in hell he will use Agatsuma as bait, not when his ears are the only thing keeping the both of them alive, not when he is the key to finishing this mission, not when he looks so miserable but presses on anyway.

Murata will protect Agatsuma and will do his job, even at the cost of his own life. That's his pride as a Demon Slayer.

So he tells Agatsuma to stay at a distance, avoid the attacks that might come his way, and warn Murata of the others. Agatsuma looks at him with those big eyes of his, serious even with the snot running down his nose, and he seems – reticent ? No, that's not the word. Bitter ? Even then, he still steps away like instructed, and readies himself.

The demon comes out again once, twice, never targeting Murata. It's frustrating, but he has to keep his breath steady and deep, has to be ready to strike at any time, as fast as he can, and hope he can get the demon's head before it gets his life.

Agatsuma shouts, Murata slashes downwards – breathe deeply, bring the blood to your arms, don't get distracted by the pain in your legs or the way your sword gets slowed by the bones –

The demon retreats, alive, and Murata falls. It hurts. He breathes, shallow ineffective breaths that don't help with the pain or the bleeding or the fact that he failed. He had one job, and he couldn't do it. Not well, not at all, and if Agatsuma dies because of that, Murata will have regrets, even though he's done his best and lived his life in a way that he wanted to be proud of.

It hurts.

He's injured, bleeding out on the ground, and there's no way the demon won't come after him again next. So he shouts at Agatsuma to run, to stay alive – someone stronger has to come, someone who can make use of Agatsuma's ears, and that won't happen if no one lives to call for help. But that idiot, that crying mess of an idiot, somehow chooses that exact moment to not be the coward he's wanted to be from the beginning.

He runs to Murata, holds him up, mumbles something about hiding in trees and not wanting to watch someone die again, and Murata could strangle him. He's trying to have a noble death here ! A death he can be proud of, as a man and as a Demon Slayer !

Of course, the demon attacks again before anyone can get anywhere. Murata isn't quite sure what happens – his legs hurt and his head feels too light and everything is going way too fast – but he finds himself at the foot of a tree, alive, somehow, and he can see Agatsuma's weird hair over there on the other side of the road. He is on the ground too. Unmoving. He probably got projected away by the attack and knocked himself out on the cliff. In the best of cases.

Murata kind of wants to cry.

But then Agatsuma rises again, and something feels different. No, everything is different. His posture, his breathing, the lack of crying or whining. There were hints of that before, in the way he was always read to yank Murata out of the demon's path, in the way he focused on listening and on keeping his tears silent, in the way he didn't seem to tire at all throughout this long, too long night. But that's all they were. Hints.

Murata looks at this Agatsuma through the fog of his own fading consciousness, and he doesn't see a normal guy anymore. And he thinks maybe, maybe this is the guy who slayed one of the spider demons back then, and maybe it wasn't a fluke like he thought before.

But right now, the demon will come for Murata, and this exceptional Agatsuma will be too far away to strike. That's alright though, so long as Agatsuma can finish the job afterwards, Murata is sure he can die in peace. Even if he didn't do what he wanted to do, it's fine. He's just a regular guy who did his best.

From where he is, with his head on the ground, he can actually hear the rumbling right before the demon comes, a sort of hollow echo of a landslide – there were a few of these back at home, the fields were in a valley and sometimes the hills above would swallow them, and the year's harvest, and some of the houses, in one single movement. And there was nothing to do except wait for it to pass, and then dig up the fields and the dead and start working again.

And just like then, Murata waits, because there's nothing else to do. He feels the demon come out right by his legs, probably because that's where his most of blood is now, hears something like thunder in the distance, and then Agatsuma is here, slicing the demon's head off in one single movement.

Agatsuma crumbles, Murata watches the demon turn to ashes, and he cannot for the life of him figure out how the hell he's still alive. It shouldn't have been possible for Agatsuma to move this fast, and yet he did, and it saved Murata. At least until he bleeds out entirely, which is looking more and more likely. It would be a shitty death, though.

He tries to breathe again, through the pain and the fog in his brain, deeply, slowly, focusing all his attention to his legs – and it _hurts_, damn it, it hurts so goddamn much – focusing until all he can feel are the long slashes up his calves and thighs, until he can feel the blood leaking out and the torn up vessels, and he keeps breathing even though it hurts so much he'd surely feel better dying, because he can do it, and because if he doesn't at least try, he'll never forgive himself.

The bleeding doesn't stop, but it slows, and that might just be enough.

Agatsuma starts whining again. He can't feel his legs, he says. Murata simply groans in return. He can't say he missed this, honestly, but at least that means Agatsuma is conscious.

He breathes out. Agatsuma, crying and complaining and whining more than ever, rises to his knees, probably preparing to leave and get someone who can help, or who at least has a sewing kit and some clean bandages. Or – or he could grab Murata's arms, wrap them around his neck, and help him to a sitting position. And then carry Murata on his back, whining that his legs hurt and he can barely walk again anymore after using the God Speed and he's pretty sure he broke at least three ribs and Murata should be _thankful_, goddammit, so he'd better not die before they reach the Wisteria House. That works too.

And Murata thinks, maybe he was wrong. Maybe regular old conscious Agatsuma is kind of amazing too, in his own way, pushing through even though he hates every second of it.

It's almost admirable.


End file.
